Tomorrow Tomorrow
by Miclol
Summary: Tristan and Rory. Season 1 happened, then they befriended each other slightly, at Chilton. [titled as Elliott's Smith Tomorrow Tomorrow]
1. I Got Static in My Head

Tristan parked the car and turned the engine off. Silence overtook as the young man looked at the house in front of which he had stopped. He was tired. Hours of having flown from London, followed by driving all the way from the airport, were of course part of the reason of his exhaustion – but so were hours of flipping through his mind again and again, the words he'll say to the girl he had made such a long way to meet. But despite his frantic, hurried journey, now, as he sat there, he was simply too terrified to get in.

_This is it_, the words passed his mind as he reached for his coat, on the seat next to him. He put it in his lap, but stayed still. Outside there were no particular sounds or noises, except than the occasional chirping of birds; no music was played, no people were laughing. He had sat twice at that same spot before this night, yet again not having the nerve to get out and walk the short road to the door – only that now the house looked grim. Sad. He shook his head; he was mostly a logical man, and he was probably just imagining it... but the feeling overtook him and he dreaded getting out. He didn't want to see her like that, and damn his good intentions.

His cowardness overtooking, he recalled what got him there at the first place; Paris had called him, his cellphone intruding a family dinner he was happy to get out of. He berated himself now for being so pleased at hearing her voice, which had liberated him of his hated family duties. It took him no more than two seconds to realize that something was wrong, as Paris started rambling about how he should stay calm and collected and think rationally – he remembered her using that term, rationally - and how there's nothing he could possibly do, so acting crazy was... and he cut her off right then and joked about her new tendency of not finishing her thoughts. And when she did finish her thought, telling him whatever details she could before he hung up and called the DuGrey's travelling agent, cutting his vacation short, he wished that she hadn't.

He sighed and again looked at her house. Should the light in one of the rooms hadn't been flicked on, he would've probably just countinued sitting there for hours to come. But so it was that it _was_ flicked on, and before having a chance of regretting it, he got up and shut the car door behind him.

**

* * *

**

"And all I could think of," she says and her voice is thickening at the thought, "was that it's fall. It's fall, you see—" she suddenly looks up at him, and she seems startled, almost as if she had forgotten he had ever walked into her house that late, breezy autumn night and took her breath away. She shakes her head slightly and takes her hand out of his grasp, breathing heavily and not finding the exact words to convey her feelings. And her hair is all messed up but she doesn't actually care that much; she tries to get it out of her eyes and her hands linger at the top of her head a moment more. She looks so incredibly desperate, completely at a loss of words. Words, her reliable counterpart, are betraying her now and it feels as if the ground is slipping from beneath her. And she suddenly feels so tired of having that same feeling on repeat ever since Saturday night.

She gets up and hurries off, walking towards the window and opening it. "You see?" she then asks weakly. He's not looking outside, he looks at the agonizing girl standing right in front of him. He doesn't have to look out the window in order to find out what it is he has to see. A thought flashes through his mind—and it's as quick as lightning and as thick as water—he thinks to himself, that he _sees_ her. But he would linger upon that later on, for she continues. "It's just cool air and it's not..." – her voice is merely a whisper now – "it's not snowing." A beat, and she returns, anger creeping in. "It isn't snowing and it isn't fair."

"Rory," he says, his voice soft. The girl leans against the wall.

"My mom died and the one thing I keep thinking about is, that it isn't snowing." She looks straight into his eyes for the whole time and is bewildered by the concept of him holding her gaze. She looks into his eyes and sees no pity, only... only sorrow so deep she's afraid she might drown in, and something else she had already knew was to be found there whenever he was looking at her.

He stands up at once and walks towards her. Urgently he walks, and at the sound of his methodic steps nearing her, she starts crying for the first time ever since her mother stepped into that car. He gets there in time to hold her before she falls to the floor, and both of them sit there pressed against the wall of Lorelai's bedroom and against each other. She sobs, desperately so, and clings to the fabric of his shirt. He holds her tight and minutes pass them by, perhaps hours. He whispers words of condolences softly into her ear and prays that morning will come bearing hope and comfort. At last she falls asleep and he soon follows her lead.


	2. The Reflectd Sound of Everything

**Hey you guys. :) Thanks to everyone who commented and/or liked the story.**

**As for whether or not I am going to continue writing this - I haven't been writing fanfiction for a couple of years now, give or take, but something about this story makes me come back to it every once in a while. There's actually another chapter I've already written (Chapter 3), quite recently, and I do have several ideas in mind for it... so I guess there's a pretty good chance I will keep on writing this. Anyway, please comment if you can, it would mean a lot to me.**

**Also, this story started off as "I Want to Tell You"'s prequel, so you can probably guess how it ends. There are some twists along the way though, so you should be able to enjoy the ride...**

**Well that's it I guess. Hope you like this bit.**

**P.S - The Fuzzy Tomatoes film? Actually exists.**

* * *

She walked through the crowded hallways and felt the stares. _Felt _them.

It was so strange; nobody ever noticed her in this place, nobody ever really cared. She was suddenly being watched here, and that never happened. No one ever watched her here, except maybe….

The bell cut her train of thought, and she resignedly realized that she would have to get to class. And this time, she was not going to be able to walk faster and avoid their glares… she would sit there and they would stare and it would be horrible.

She wanted to stall time; she wanted to throw this school and Harvard away, even if it's only for the mere sake of not having to get to class on that gloomy autumn day.

But she had to, and so it was that she got to class after the teacher's arrival. She didn't know where to burry herself, and miserably pondered if her hands were always so clumsy and big and awkward. The teacher let it slide, to her amazement (she'd never seen something like that happen before in Chilton) and she took the last seat remaining, on the second row.

Rory tried to listen but all she could think of was the movie she and her mom saw that last Friday; that movie had the most bizarre plot. Something concerning the revival of crazy, fuzzy (!) tomatoes. For some reason, it brought tears to her eyes. She quickly used her long, brown hair as a curtain, and a thought sneaked into her mind. She wanted to cut her hair.

And that thought was so random and awkward, so stupid... Rory could feel more tears clouding her eyes. She hopelessly tried to vanish them, to think about something else, anything else, but the word 'stupid' remained blazing with fury, ruling the storm that overcame her logic.

Next thing she knew, the teacher asked her, hesitatingly so, whether she was feeling alright or not.

Great. That was just what she needed, to feel the stares burning into her skin even further.

She nodded, resolving not to show weakness in front of them. Fine, she was feeling just fine.

When the bell rang at last she stuffed her books into her backpack without much of a thought, and started walking as fast as she could towards her locker.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Almost crying in class for no reason, no reason at all, thinking about stupid films when she was supposed to be mourning… oh… stupid, stupid….

And as she repeated the word, again and again, she bumped into someone, and she could swear she heard some divine power laughing at her from up above.

She looked up and saw Tristan DuGrey.

Yes. There was definitely some laughing going on.

"Rory," he said, and she felt as though she was falling, down, down, down.

"Yeah," she said or asked—she was not exactly sure—and her voice was barely a whisper.

He looked worried, she mused, truly worried. "You're crying."

Rory was taken by surprise; she didn't feel the tears rolling freely down her cheeks, and was suddenly taken aback by the cold chill of grief that overcame her. She had promised herself to not show, don't let them know.

She did the only thing she could think of; she ran.

* * *

And he ran after her. Tristan caught her by the arm and hugged her.

All she wanted was to lean on him, just like she did the nights before, to cry and to scream—but she couldn't, she was in a crowded hallway, she—

Rory looked to her side and saw that they were not, in fact, in a crowded hallway, as she thought, but in a long, deserted one. She didn't look where she was running; she had no idea where exactly she was.

She closed her eyes and then opened them in a sudden realization; Tristan was hugging her, and she didn't care. She didn't care one bit.

She took two steps backwards and looked at him again; then down at her shoes.

"Um. Hi."

"Hi," he said.

"Sorry… sorry I ran out on you like that… I didn't mean to… you know, I…." She looked up and stopped.

"Yeah. No biggy."

They stared at each other and smiled. Rory realized what she was doing and stopped, and so Tristan's own smile came to an end as well.

"Rory, you know—"

"Yeah," she said and there was silence again. "Thanks."

"I didn't do anything—"

"Then for Sunday."

He was ready to deny the need for thanks, but gave up. "Don't mention it." A pause. "Are you okay?" And as soon as the question left his mouth he was all too ready to bang his head against the nearest locker.

"Not really," she said truthfully, and sighed. "My mother's still dead."

"Yeah," he said softly, lacking something better to say.

More silence overtook the conversation, and as he was going to say something she beat him to it and said, "I guess we should get to class now." Rory turned around and walked towards her Math class (she hoped).

One word was on both minds as each went to different directions.

Stupid.

* * *

She sat down and the door was shut behind her. There were a few seconds in which she sat there alone, waiting for him to join her. She positioned herself more freely. Comfy, she thought, and was still surprised that such musings still occured to her, such... regural thoughts. 

He then opened the door next to the driver's seat and cut her train of thought while doing so. He sat down, closed the door, put on the seatbelt. She watched him, just hypontized. As bizzare as it may sound, she never thought of him doing all of these everyday stuff. Routine. Actually, she realized, it never came to her mind that his life went on outside of Chilton.

Again he stopped her musings as he flashed a smile at her. Very sincire, she pondered. Then they sat there for another second, before he asked, "So... where to?"

She looked ahead, thinking, and then turned back to Tristan. "I don't care," she said; and it wasn't uttered angrily or desperately. She just realized that she actually didn't care for her next whereabouts.

Tristan nodded slightly, understanding. "I'll just take you to wherever I feel like, then?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered in a heartbeat.

His familiar smirk reappeared. "Never thought I'd get that answer, for that question, from you."

They both smiled. "Things change," said Rory.

And again remembering what exactly had changed, they sunk into silence. But as he turned the engine on and cruised down the road, Rory thought to herself that it was probably the most comfortable silence she had shared in days.


	3. Tried to Go to Where It Lay

**Hey everyone. :) Again - thanks for the feedback, it means the world to me. And I would especially appreciate it for this chapter.**

**It seems that this story is gonna be finished, after all.**

**Well, that's it I guess. Enjoy. Oh, the song mentioned is The Shins' "Know Your Onion!".**

* * *

"I'm alright," she said. The Shins were playing softly in the background, singing about cars parked upon their chests. Rory, more than likely identifying with the lyrics, was fiddling with the hem of her skirt, anxious for the conversation to come to an end. "Yes." She shut her eyes and listened to whatever it was Emily was telling her over the phone. "Yes Grandma. I'll be back soon, I just..."

Tristan turned another corner. The Shins were now chanting about making themselves, and Tristan took another glance at the girl sitting beside him. Sloped shoulders, blank expression, eyelids desperately holding that shining blue apart of the rest of the world. He just... wanted to hold her tight, until everything else went away. Well, until then, and then some more.

"Don't worry, I'm with a friend," she said distractedly.

His missed a heartbeat.

"Some schoolwork." And, seeing that her Grandmother was not going to let it slide so easily, she said softly, "I just need some time away". She then smiled shakily – Emily understood, for once – and said goodbye. She turned the cellphone off with a sigh. She glanced at Tristan, sitting next to her. Then looked out the window.

"She's just worried, Rory," he said after a pause, a little uncertain as to whether or not it was his place to meddle.

Rory closed her eyes and sunk even further into her seat. "Yeah," she said at last, just as her cellphone started ringing again.

He stopped the car and turned the engine off, as she answered. "Hey Luke."

He sunk into his seat, closing his eyes shut.

* * *

She was crying and he was definitely freaking out. After swapping about two sentences with Luke, she said she had to go and burst silently into tears as soon as she hung up. Tristan was left there, sitting next to her, without knowing exactly what the hell he should be doing. A few moments passed before he put his hand on her shoulder and softly said her name. She shook her head and closed her eyes.

"I'm okay," she then said.

"I really... wish you'd stop saying that," he said truthfully. She opened her eyes at once, bright blue staring directly at him, raw and wide. He was on the spot.

"So now you don't want me to be okay?" Anger and desperation creeped into her voice. Her hands were shaking, her eyes still red of recent tears.

"That's not what I said—"

"—I knew I shouldn't have went with you—"

"—don't say that, Rory—"

She let out a bitter chuckle and the words died on his lips and came to an abrupt stop. Her mild chuckle became right out laughter and he took his hand off her shoulder, confused. And mainly hurting.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, "I don't know what I was thinking."

He nodded once, relieved, "I don't—"

"I mean come on. You're only nice to me because—"

"Rory," he started, urgently so.

"—my mother died, and don't you you mean 'Mary'?"

They were staring at each other, both breathing heavily. He felt as if she had punched him right in the stomach. He bitterly realized that she didn't know him at all. And did he know her?

His mind flashed images of him yelling at her, right there and then in his car, telling her she's blind and deaf; and images of her saying she hates him, to her boyfriend, just a few months ago, when school was out – thus causing his whole world to crumble and disappear; of him putting her textbooks on the ground. Buttoning up his blazer and walking away, right? Wasn't he supposed to be walking away? He had decided long ago that he was done trying.

But for once, he kept his emotions in check. Didn't let out a damn word. His father would've been proud at him, he thought bitterly. Then he found himself frightened, bewildered by the mere concept of that elusive thought. He turned away from that mesmerizing blue of hers, and looked sideways, thus caughting a glimpse of himself, reflecting in the car door's mirror. He saw himself then, scared and alone and angry as hell. Abrupt relization kicked in. He looked to his other side and saw a scared girl sitting beside him, consumed by the need to feel. And he _knew_ that need, right? From up close. Just wanting to feel anything, and if that anything was to be rage, then so be it.

She shook her head slightly and turned away, to look out the window, at the cars methodically passing them by.

"That's not true," he said finally and she turned to look at him at once. His voice was husky and low, and there was something terribly alarming to it. It could not be ignored. His expression was blank, and she suddenly didn't know who exactly it was, that was sitting beside her, his entire facade fading away. Suddenly it was just Tristan sitting there, nothing else. And she didn't know what that meant.

"Okay," she said quietly, without thinking. They were still staring at each other, not fully realizing what had just happened.

She felt as if she had just participated in a battle or something. Like a boxing match. And she wasn't exactly sure who won.

Recollecting himself, he finally said, "That's it."

"What?"

"This is where I wanted to take you." He said simply. She didn't say anything, and, after pausing for a second, he just got out of the car.


	4. But It Didn't Lead to Anything

**Hello everyone. Again, thanks for the feedback, and more of it would be great.**

* * *

Rory sat there silently for a second, watching him walk away from the car. His back was turned to her but she had noticed the way he had squared his shoulders, and took in deep breathes. As if he was shutting all systems down and waiting for the next hit to come.

She closed her eyes shut and tried to breathe regularly. Then, got out of the car.

Tristan was now standing next to a banister at the end of the small road he had gone from the car. She hugged herself while walking towards him, as the wind started to pick up. They were at some seemingly deserted mountain peak, which was strange, seeing as they were still in Hartford. She looked back at where they came from, and saw that the road had just ended there, where Tristan had parked the car. As she neared Tristan, she was exposed to the breathtaking sight of West Hartford, from up above. It was already darkening, and city lights dotted the scenery beautifly.

Rory stepped slowly further away towards the banister, and leaned against it. "It's beautiful, Tristan," she said softly. Rory then looked at him, and was met with the mesmerizing sight of this young, handsome man who was standing beside her. Golden sunset light graced his features. He looked both strong and weak at once, and she was suddenly drawn to whatever it was, this person who was just standing there silently, hands in pockets, blond hair and blue eyes and all these things she thought she didn't even like.

"Yeah," he said, looking her. He then realized what he was doing, and how hopeless it was, and smiled bitterly as he turned away to look at the view.

They stood there in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry," she said at last, looking at him.

Tristan looked ahead. "It's alright."

"No, I was... mean."

"It's okay, really," he said and looked at her. He smiled slightly, to assure her.

"You've been nothing but nice to me..."

"It's okay, Ror." He said, looking down. And at hearing himself calling her by that intimate, simple nickname, and carelessly so, his heart skipped a beat and at once he looked up at her, waiting for her to... do what, exactly? Unsderstand it's all wrong and walk away? He stared at her for a moment more, but she didn't do anything. As if she hadn't even noticed something different. The whole thing lasted for maybe two seconds. He shook his head and continued speaking, urgently. "_If_ I was nice, it was only becase I wanted to be."

"Okay," she said, relieved. She flashed him a smile, "You forgive me?"

He was a goner. Gave her his best smile and said, "Yeah Mary. Why not."

She tilted her head to the side and playfully said, "You're just something else. Aren't you?"

Still smiling, he said, "I like to think so."

"I bet you do," she laughed, relieved. They were okay.

* * *

They were both sitting on the ground next to the banister. It was dark by then. He had his arm around her – which he had put there after she had shivered one time too many. "I shouldn't have brought you out here," he said," "it's too cold." He preffered to think that his voice was shaking because of the cool air surrounding them, and not of the way his hand garced her waist.

"For the _fifteenth_ _time_, Tristan," she narrowed her eyes, "I don't mind it. I actually kind of like it. Okay?"

He shook his head at her stubborness and chuckled. "Okay." She smiled gleefully. "But in ten minutes we're back in the car."

"Okay," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Okay."

They fell into silence, both watching the view. She snuggled further into his embrace and was surprised at how right it all seemed to her. A week before, Tristan was just a guy she had shared playful banter with whenever he chose to bug her near her locker.

She shivered again and Tristan held her closer. He didn't know what to think of it all. His feelings towards her had remained the same as they were when he asked her to that PJ Harvey concert, and repressing every thought about innocent blue eyes or witty comebacks for the last four months, have appereantly not changed a thing about that. He closed his eyes, comforted by her being so closed to him. He shouldn't overthink it so much. She just needed him there – or anyone else, he reminded himself hastily. But he was in too deep.

"She knew when it was going to snow, you know?" she said.

He opened his eyes at once and looked at her. She said it quietly, after turning the words in her mind again and again. "Lorelai?" he asked, and it was barely a whisper.

"Yes," she said, still looking ahead. Then she turned to look at him, his face so close to hers she could feel his warm breathes upon her. She smiled, a faint smile of a little girl. "Yeah, she could smell it."

"Really?" he smiled at her. She was still staring into his eyes.

"Yeah..." her smile broadened, and it was one of love. "She would wake me up and whisper, excitedly, that it's gonna snow."

He held her closer.

"I miss her." She said, her voice breaking. He somehow tangled her hand into his and she thought to herself that ever since it happened, she hadn't even told anybody that she simply misses her. And now, Tristan.

"I know," he said finally.

"Luke was in love with her," she said at once. Then realized Tristan didn't even know who she was talking about. "Luke is..." she shook her head. "He's Luke, I don't know. You should meet him."

At that moment Tristan was the saddest, and happiest, that he had ever been. He hated seeing her like that, hurting, but somehow that 'you should meet him' she threw in so carelessly, gave him hope. For the both of them.

"And my Grandparents are a mess. And me." She sniffed once, a tear running down her cheek. "And when it snows, Tristan?"

Her voice was barely a whisper, and he thought that had she not been so close to him, that whisper would've probably gone unheared.. "You'll be okay."

More tears made their way down her cheeks, at first matching her hot, lively rage, and then leaving an icy trail of grief in their wake. "You don't know that Tristan."

"I do," he said.

"How?" she asked desperately.

"I just... I _do_."

She looked into his eyes and couldn't help but believe him. Sudden relief washed over her, then guilt. What was she doing? Feeling relieved. But Lorelai would want her happy, right? 'Dancing through the woods', she once said.

Rory shivered again, as she suddenly had that memory of Lorelai so vivid in her mind. Then was simply bruised by the word 'memory'. Was that all there was to her mother now?

"Rory, listen. You'll be fine."

She was on a rollercoaster. And through that, his gaze never left hers.

"Okay," she said at last.

She closed her eyes and came loose, just dropped everything she hung onto, and sunk into something she didn't even know how to name. Perhaps desperation, or freedom, or something so enormous inside and outside of her, she would just drown in. He held her, and should he have not, she would have just turned into limbs, just a body sprawled right there on the ground. He held her tighter, letting her know he's there. Moments passed, before she regained strength. She then opened her eyes and offered him a weak smile. It was gone, she thought suddenly, and all it took was a split second. And for him to hold her.

He smiled back. She was completely shaking. "Now let's get back to the car and warm you up."

She laughed, and it was as if she came back to life. "That's how you call it these days?"

He chuckled, "Well now I know you're alright. Come on, let's go."


	5. The Noise is Coming out

Rory woke up to find that she was sprawled in the car seat, Tristan's jacket wrapping her entire body. She breathed in the scent of him, then sighed. She blinked several times and, still lying across the seat Tristan had probably shifted backwards so she would be more comfortable, took in the sight of him. 

Tristan was driving, staring straight ahead at the road ahead of him. He hadn't noticed her awakening, seeing that he was, as it seemed, mesmerized with driving, concentrating intently at "Run" by Supergrass, which was playing on the radio.

Rory seized the image of him, suddenly very concerned that she would not take in every detail, breaking it down so she would be able to remember it all again whenever she needed to. The sight of Tristan's fingers tapping on the steering wheel to the beat of the music; how he absently mouthed the lyrics he knew; the sight of the street lights, softly illuminating his features every so often; and the warm, serene feeling that took over her.

She suddenly knew that she was falling for him, that she was drawn to that bizzare reality she suddenly fell into, filled with his presence, with the ever comforting and constant flow of his car, with his condolonces, which of course would do no good when it came to getting over her mother's death, but would somehow let her mind resolve around other things. She liked the feeling she had when he looked at her. He made her feel beautiful and, just, right. Suddenly she remembered a sentence out of an episode of 'Sex and the City' she once watched with her mother, when Carrie Bradshow said that the most wonderful thing is to find someone to love the you you love.

She tore her gaze from him and looked to her right, to watch the scenary, or what she could make of it, as more thoughts flooded her mind. Tristan was an enigma to her, and she knew that whatever comebacks she always had for him, and despite what she preferred to think, she hasn't gotten him pegged. Not at all. Jumping into something hasty, and with Tristan, no less... it was probably a bad idea. She knew it was.

"Rory?" he asked.

She immediately looked to her left and at him, startled. Why? She berated her foolish self as he shifted his glance from her to the street ahead of him. It wasn't as if he could hear any of her thoughts. "Yeah?"

"Slept good?"

She snuggled into the chair and smiled tiredly. "Yep." She shifted her chair back to its upright position. "Where are we heading?" she wondered aloud, a few moments later.

"Figured I'd take you home," he said simply. "It's a school night."

Surprise washed over her as she felt herself hating the sound of it. She dreaded coming back. But was it coming back to school, or Stars Hollow? She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on that thought.

Noticing she hadn't replied, he glanced at her. She looked concerned. She was wrapped up in his jacket, and she hadn't freaked out to see him there when she woke up, as he insanely feared she would. He took in a deep breathe and decided to jump.

"Where do you wanna go tomorrow?" he asked, wanting to sound carefree.

Rory looked at him, and it took everything he had in him to keep looking straight ahead and not leaving the sterring wheel altogether. "I hope you have more secret places to take me to," she said soflty, as if it was a given, and that was all he needed. He smiled and she returned the favour.

They fell into silence, and Rory suddenly thought about the insanity of it all. Lorelai's gone, and here she was, perhaps embarking upon something that she would never be able to share with her mother, tell her sleepily as she snuggles into her bed at five AM, never laugh with her about it while sitting at Luke's or ordering takeout from Al's Pancake World.

She took a deep breathe. It all surprised her, even her ability to breathe. In, out, she thought, very seriously so. In, out. Then she stared ahead for a while and smiled slightly. "I'm breathing, Tristan," she said without thinking, still looking ahead. Trsitan glanced at her briefly and she offered him a shaky smile, a little surprised at herself, just telling him whatever is on her mind.

Tristan looked ahead, at the road, slightly nodding. "Yes. Yes you are."

She smiled and tears clouded her eyes. She put her hand on her forehead and closed her eyes, taking a deep breathe. "In, out," she said quietly, "you know."

"Yes," he said again and slowly turned to the margins and off the road. She let out a shaky breathe, as tears ran down her cheeks. She couldn't understand how she could go like that, from feeling fine and thinking about Tristan, to crying. Tristan parked the car and put his hand over her shoulder, kissing the top of her head tenderly, lightly caressing her thigh with his other hand. She looked up at him, and with open eyes touched her lips to his. Then closed her eyes and kissed him again.

Sudden relief took over him. This wasn't how he thought he'd feel should something happen between them. He felt comforted, as happiness that could simply not be denied took over him.

When she pulled away it was with a smile gracing her lips. He smiled back, then briefly kissed her shoulder. Then her cheek. He lingered there and held her close, somehow both tngaled in each other's embarce in the car. He closed his eyes, his eyelashes tingling her cheek slightly. She looked over his shoulder at the road behind him, outside the car, and then closed her eyes with a soft sigh. He whispered, "You're breathing, Rory?" and she laughed heartedly.

The tears soon followed but he was there.

* * *

**"Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous."** Carrie Bradshaw.


End file.
